Angels Belong in Heaven
by LunarBlade Valentine
Summary: After the fall of Deus, something happened to Bart. He got lost. Something must have happened, or else Sigurd and Citan have no way of explaining to themeselves why was he found almost dead. A Bart story; he met someone, and she gave him the wings he need


Angels Belong in Heaven

**Angels Belong in Heaven**

_"Angel of golden wings  
__Searching truth in lie  
__Singing a lonely song  
__Receiving one reply;  
__Angels belong in heaven."  
__(Book of Sacred, page 453, Nisan.)_

Sigurd nodded his head to the council. There was a lot to do in order to rebuild this world, starting with what remained of Aveh.  
Being the head of the New People's Republic of Aveh, he had his hands full with so many things; he hardly had a moment's rest.  
Suddenly the door to the Conference Room slammed open, and in the doorway leaned Bart. He had some sort of hunched posture, and a smirk from here till tomorrow,  
"Oy, Sig." He sounded drunk. One hand dangled by his side, the other was tucked under his jacket.  
"Bart?!" Sigurd got up from his seat, giving his young friend a stern look mixed with surprise and annoyance.  
"I am glad to see you, but I am in the middle of something right now." He hissed. Sometimes that Bart could be so unreasonable! Since he left Sigurd to do the ruling (not that Sigurd disapproved with the decision) he disappeared from the face of the earth completely. Now he just burst into his meeting all of the sudden. Even though Sigurd was innerved with the blond pirate at the moment, a feeling of dread grabbed his stomach.  
Bart chuckled to himself, closing his eye briefly and nearly falling to the floor. It seemed as if the doorway was the only thing that kept him standing.  
Seeing this, Sigurd rushed to his side, the people of the council simply gave the two a concerned look, not knowing how to react amidst this reunion.  
"What is the matter with you, Bart?" Sigurd grabbed Bart's hunched figure and struggled in vain to make him stand up right. Bart only choked out a sound.  
"Where have you been, these past months?!" Sigurd harshly demanded.  
"…Um…" Bart started as the silver haired man slowly withdrew one hand from around Bart to stare at it. "…Sorry." Bart mumbled.  
The hand was smeared with blood. Plenty of it.  
"Call Hyuga!!!" Sigurd roared at the council. One of them quickly called upon a servant to rush to the Doctor's residence in the castle.  
"Hold on, Bart!" He cried in alarm, seeing how the blond nearly lost consciousness again, "What happened to you?!"  
Again Bart chuckled, a trail of blood trickling down his chin, alarming Sigurd even more, "…An assassin…"  
Sigurd grabbed Bart from under his arms, in an attempt to keep him from falling,  
"After you? Where? Why?"  
The Blond pirate shook his head, that smirk still plastered on his face,  
"…Delilah…"  
He coughed and his legs failed him. Sigurd swallowed hard and, Bart being too heavy and wounded for him to hold, fell to his knees along with Bart, yet did not release his hold.  
"Bart…!"  
"…Don't worry…" He was still smiling, "… I took… Personal… Care of that."  
Sigurd could do nothing but utter his young brother's name again. He then turned to the council members and yelled,  
"Where is Hyuga, damn him!"  
"On his way!"  
Sigurd turned back to Bart,  
"Hold on…" He muttered, stroking the young blonde's feverish face.  
Chuckling again, Bart said,  
"I've been… in the castle for… quite a… while." He coughed again and swallowed hard.  
"Save your strength…!"  
Ignoring the advice, he continued,  
"…They said you were… 'Too busy'… for me." He coughed again, renewing the trickle down his face, "…Just like… the… rest of them."  
Sigurd started hearing footsteps rushing towards them. But there were still a few precious moments until they arrive.  
"Where have you been, Bart?" Sigurd didn't want Bart to talk, but he just had to understand what the young man meant.  
"Nowhere…." He chuckled again, now his senses started failing, "…Everywhere… No one…"  
Sigurd tried to shush him, the back of his mind screaming for Hyuga to make it faster.  
"…I was lost." Bart's voice was nothing more than a whisper now, "Only… Instead of me… Going, and not knowing where to return… Everyone else left… And I… Didn't know… Where to go…"  
The chuckle again, with the trail of blood.  
"… Delilah… She…"  
Sigurd realized that he indeed, shamelessly, forgot about the Young Master almost completely after the later disappeared. Such a fierce feeling of guilt grabbed his chest, the silver haired man bit his lip, still stroking Bart's face.  
"…Hey… Sig?" Bart managed to lift his head. His single eye feverish and unfocused.  
Sigurd stared into his face, listening, knowing … _fearing_… that these will be the Blonde's last moments on the planet.  
"Do angels… exist? No the type… we fought against…"  
Sigurd blinked several times at the question. After but a moment, he nodded his head,  
"I hope." He whispered, "I believe they do, and I hope."  
Bart chuckled for the last time before saying,  
"Ya… I thought as much." And he collapsed onto Sigurd's shoulder, body becoming limp, his jasper eye closing.  
The blonde's name tore itself from Sigurd's throat with a broken cry.

Citan gingerly closed the sickbay's door after him, wiping his hands and shaking his head sadly.  
"HYUGA!!!" He cringed with the roar and turned to see Sigurd at the other end of the hall. The man had an air of murder about him.  
Citan gulped.  
"By the Holy Mother of Nisan, Hyuga, I am going to have your head!!!"  
Before Citan could react or retort, Sigurd was lifting him from his collar and pulling back a fist. His face was a mask of pain and grief, though you couldn't see it right now, from under all the rage.  
"He's alive!" Citan yelled, covering his face.  
"….?" The drawn fist wavered, yet did not punch nor lower.  
Citan gulped again, afraid of his friend's reactions and trying to quell his anger,  
"The young one is alive….!" He tried to smile.  
Sigurd dropped him and his fist, covering his forehead and stumbling backwards,  
"He's… Alive…?"  
Citan straightened his cloths and adjusted his collar,  
"Indeed. These 24 hours will determine his fate."  
Sigurd leaned on the wall from across the sickbay and slowly slid to the floor,  
"Its my fault." He said.  
Citan exhaled with relief that he was not beaten, and joined his friend on the floor.  
"It is not, and I am sure you are aware of that."  
Sigurd shook his head in dismay,  
"I… I have deserted him. I promised him I would never do that. Ever. And I did."  
Citan also shook his head,  
"He disappeared. What could you have done? Go look for him? There was nothing stopping him from staying."  
"But… He could have not stayed."  
Citan raised his brows. Sigurd looked thoughtfully at his own hand, leaning on his knee, "This is not his home. Not really. All he has from here are scattered memories and the trauma of his parents' tortured death. With you and me busy, all his other friends gone and preoccupied with their own lives, what could he have done?"  
The dark doctor was silent.  
"He cannot even be a pirate anymore." Sigurd smiled sadly, "Not anymore. And I know he would not want to travel in the Yggdrasil without Maison or myself. I would not want to travel without him. It is just wrong."  
Citan smiled,  
"The fact that stealing is illegal is no consideration, I see."  
Sigurd half chuckled.  
"So… What _did_ he do?" Citan tapped his chin thoughtfully.  
The silver haired ex-element could only shrug.  
After some silence, Citan cleared his throat uneasily. When his friend gave him an inquiring look, he scratched his chin and said,  
"I must tell you some things about the Young One's condition."  
Sigurd's silence was heavy as he waited for the doctor to elaborate,  
"Well, I must first say that since the 'death of the ether', the practice of medicine had become much more challenging." He inhaled deeply, constantly watched by his companion's blue stare. "Luckily, we have nanomachines on our side to help us now, but since Taura destroyed the 'recipe' to make them in fear that the information will be used for evil, we can only rely on those we released to break the seal."  
"What about Bart, then?" Sigurd's stare did not waver an inch. Citan nodded and continued,  
"His condition right now is critical." He saw Sigurd twitch involuntarily with anger and probably guilt. "You must know that he is in safe hands, and there is nothing more we can currently do for him." Citan inhaled again, debating with himself.  
"There is more." Sigurd noted, waiting for the grim news Hyuga was obviously trying to avoid.  
Citan gulped,  
"There is. He… Something happened to him during his travels, and I am not entirely certain what."  
"What are you getting at?"  
"He has a deep gash in his side." Citan finally announced, "From the chest to the stomach. Several more slashed over his body, mostly just adding to the blood-loss. He also has a partially healed wound in the back of his shoulder. All are blade-induced. What more," He shook his head, "He has signs of malnutrition. He obviously did not take very good care of himself. Signs of over-exertion and exhaustion are also obvious."  
"…"  
"I truly cannot guess what our Young One have been through, but I can say with some confidence that he somehow got involved in several fights, and that…" He hesitated a moment, "…And that he missed you dearly."  
Sigurd seemed surprised,  
"How do you know?"  
Citan smiled fondly,  
"Because he keeps calling your name. Yours and…"  
"And…?"  
"Someone by the name of Delilah."  
A silver brow was raised at this revelation,  
"Delilah? The assassin…?"  
"What assassin?"  
Sigurd looked at the floor thoughtfully,  
"Right before he collapsed, he spoke of an assassin, and mentioned that name; Delilah."  
Citan tapped his chin again,  
"Then finding this Delilah might solve this mystery."  
Sigurd nodded firmly,  
"Let us contact the others, ask them what they know. Bart mentioned that he visited at least some of them. They might have clues."  
And they both got up from the floor and headed to the task.

It is important to note that later that day a corpse of a male professional assassin was found on the castle grounds, near the Regent's quarters.

"Fei?" Citan was using a televone (A screen that you can talk to people through, with both audio and video).  
"Doc! It's been ages! How are you? How are things in the castle?"  
Citan nodded impatiently,  
"All is well with me. Alas, I cannot say the same about the Young One."  
Fei seemed distressed with the news,  
"Bart? Is he alright?"  
After a quick glace in Sigurd's direction for confirmation, Citan shook his head,  
"He… He is not doing very well. He was wounded some time ago, and we do not have a clue of what had happened to him. Perhaps you or Elly can enlighten us in any way?"  
Fei thought a moment about this,  
"I'm sorry, Doc, I really don't know what might have happened. Why don't you simply ask him? What's his condition?"  
Citan's mouth went dry. He hated being a doctor sometimes,  
"I will not lie to you, my friend. His situation is grave."  
Fei's eyes went wide,  
"You mean… He's… He's…" He frantically waved his hands to replace the missing word.  
"He might not last the night."  
"Dear Mother!" Fei had shock all over his face, "…He seemed alright when he visited last… Elly! Elly, come here quick!"  
He told her the news, and Citan waited patiently as she pondered a reason for this event. As Fei, no reason had occurred to her.  
"We're coming as soon as we can!" They exclaimed.  
"First please," The doctor smiled, knowing that it would probably help at all, "Tell me about the Young One's visit."

"Around a month and a half ago, Bart came to visit me and Elly at Aliceville, where we live. Since we had just founded the town a few months before, everything was still pretty hectic around here."

Bart looked approvingly at the newly built houses, admiring both the architecture and the sturdy, warm atmosphere the place had.  
"Oy! Fei!" He waved his hand at the brown haired martial artist, and received a welcoming smile and a wave. Bart approached his friend, who was supervising the building of another house.  
"This one is bigger than the rest." Bart mentioned. Fei nodded,  
"This will be Town Hall."  
After this Fei instructed the builders some more and he and Bart took a moment to talk.  
"How are you, Fei? You look good!"  
Fei filled his chest with pride,  
"I'm great! You wouldn't believe the amount of refugees that flood the world! At first we were afraid that the amount of people left alive wouldn't be enough, but there're so many people still alive! It's so great! Me and Elly have our hands full, but we're as happy as we can be." He smiled widely, and Bart smiled back at him,  
"Need any help?"  
"Sure! Let's see what you can do. Don't you have anything else to be doing, though?"  
The pirate gave a bark of laughter at that, which meant 'no'. "Maybe I can help with the building?"  
"Thanks, but we have plenty of workers, the main problem now is finding resources. Got any ideas?"  
The blond shook his head.  
He followed Fei around the small town a while. Fei shouting warnings and advice as they went. Bart smiled when Fei rushed to help some workers whom a plank nearly fell on. His strength was amazing, and his multiple lifetimes gave him wisdom beyond his years.  
Bart wished he were smart like Fei. He wasn't going to delude himself that he was the brightest fellow. Sure, he could plan an attack with the Yggrasil that'll knock your socks off, but what use did it have in the real world?  
He didn't know anything about building, or taking care of refugees or any of the stuff that his friend was busy with.  
After some time of wondering aimlessly while his friend helped the workers, he saw some builders trying to build a frame for a new house. One of the polls they were using was wobbly, and the whole thing nearly collapsed on them. Bart quickly came and grabbed it as the workers stabilized the poll.  
"Thanks!" One of the workers grinned at him. Bart gave him a 'no problem' smile in return.  
They decided that more support was needed between that poll and the roof. Bart held the horizontal plank above his head while the workers tried to nail it on both of its sides. It was heavy, but nothing he couldn't handle. After all, they, the guys who saved the world, had become almost inhumanly strong after that ordeal.  
"Bart!" Fei finished what he was doing and jogged to his strained friend, "Are you doing okay?"  
Bart nodded, trying to hide his sweat and that his hands were starting to give in as one of the workers decided to stand on the bar he was holding to nail it better. It wavered slightly, causing the man on top to nearly fall.  
"Watchit!" the man grumbled. Bart felt an urge to drop the plank and just beat that man, yet restrained himself.  
"I don't think you're doing it right," Fei grinned a concerned grin while Bart clenched his teeth, "Here… Let me…" Fei came by Bart and helped the supporting, advising the man standing on it to come down and giving him new ideas how to reach those hard-to-reach places. He adjusted the position of the poll so the weight was placed on the supporting poll adequately.  
The load taken from Bart, he was unneeded and in the way. The pirate found himself being urged a few feet back by the scuttling of everyone and everything. He tried to tell Fei that he'll meet him at his home, but the later was too busy.  
He missed Elly, too.

"Bart! When you visit, no cloud blocks the sun."  
Bart gave her a friendly hug,  
"A solarian phrase?"  
She smiled bashfully, "Yes, I sometimes still say those silly things…"  
She offered him some drink, and he sat down at the kitchen table as she talked with the cook and then sat beside him,  
"How have you been, Bart?"  
He nodded.  
"Where are you going to? I mean, why were you around?"  
He shrugged,  
"I donno, I'm just seeing the world now. I didn't get to see much from under the sand or over the clouds, so I'm walking the land a bit."  
What a lousy excuse.  
"Hey, do you happen to have a spare room for me?"  
Elly shook her head,  
"We're stuffed with refugees, Bart, I'm sorry. Do you have any other place to stay?"  
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture at her worried look,  
"Its okay. I should be leaving, anyway. I wanted to say 'hi' to Margie."  
"I'm sorry." She was about to add something when Fei rushed into the house,  
"Elly! One of the refugees is having a baby! We gotta do something!"  
Elly grabbed her first aid kit and rushed after her husband. Bart followed.  
There was nothing he could do, so they asked him to wait outside the makeshift warehouse place that was erected to accommodate all the refugees.

The sun came down after several hours.  
By the time Elly and Fei came out, Bart was napping on a ledge of a fountain. He woke up when they approached him.  
"Oh, Bart!" Fei said, smiling and scratching the back of his head, "You should have seen that baby! He's so strong!"  
"And cute as a button!" Elly added.  
"We were so busy with the baby and all, I totally forgot you were waiting!"  
Bart laughed, "Its alright. You wanna go do something? Have a drink or whatever?"  
Fei smiled, but shook his head,  
"Sorry, I'm too tired. I think I'll just turn in. Maybe tomorrow, eh?"  
Bart nodded, but left the same night.  
It just didn't feel right to take any of their time, while refugees were having babies and houses needing to be built.  
That Fei was lucky. He had his wife and his life and so many things to do. It was okay that he didn't have much time for him. It was only understandable that with his own life, he couldn't spend as much time with Bart as they used to. Bart totally understood, but he was still pretty sad.

"And that's it." Fei shook his head in dismay, "We didn't even notice he was gone till the next evening, when Elly reminded me that we were supposed to meet him."  
"Thank you, Fei." Citan said.  
"Me and Elly will be coming over, okay? I can't believe something happened to him…"  
"I'm sure he'll be fine." The doctor lied.  
After shutting down the Televone he and Sigurd sighed.  
"I'm going to check on the Young One.-"  
"-I'll call Ms. Marguerite." Sigurd nodded and took his companion's place as the later left.

"Ms. Marguerite?"  
"Sigurd! How are you?"  
Sigurd nodded his head,  
"And you, Ms. Marguerite?"  
"Great! Bart came to visit a while a go for my birthday! Isn't he the sweetest?"  
"…Bart visited you." He wanted to confirm.  
She nodded.  
"Could you please tell me about his visit?"  
"Why?"  
He considered telling her, but he knew how much it would upset her. He leaned back in his chair, trying to look calm and as if he wasn't on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He gave her a small grin.  
"I am curious."  
"Oh, Bart's just the greatest!"  
"But first, do you have anyone by the name of Delilah in Nisan?"  
She shook her head and started.

"Mother Marguerite, you have a visitor."  
"Huh?" Margie got up from her prayers and turned to the sister, "Who?"  
"Who else!" Bart entered the room, smiling and scaring the sister who told Margie of his arrival. "How are you, squirt?"  
Margie squeaked with glee and ran to him. She pounced on him with a huge hug.  
When they parted, she punched his chest playfully,  
"Where were you all this time? Why don't you visit more often?"  
He chuckled, but did not answer. Instead, he produced from his backpack a wrapped package of Chiffon cake.  
"I can't believe you remembered my birthday! Thank you!"  
He received another warm hug and she ran with her Chiffon cake to show the sister what a great cousin Bart was.  
Frankly, he didn't remember it was her birthday at all. Oops.  
Bart joined the sister and Margie,  
"So my little squirt cousin is seventeen, eh? Old!"  
"Look at who's talking! You're gonna be nineteen. Old!" She stuck her tongue at him, and he at her. The sister gave the two a disapproving look.  
"Hey, I'll always be beautiful." Bart made a funny pose, flaunting the strong muscles of his arm and making Margie laugh,  
"Ya, right! You're gonna go down hill soon enough, gramps!"  
He gave her a fake broken expression,  
"Give me a few days before I'll have grandchildren, squirt."  
Margie straightened the creases of her dress, looking suddenly shy,  
"…Don't I look… Even a little grown up?" She blushed slightly.  
Bart hated those things she said. Every time she said them he didn't know how to react. He shook his head, forcing his smile not to waver,  
"Even when I'll be a hundred, and you'll be ninety-eight, you'll always be my little cousin."  
She smiled, but he saw the disappointment in her eyes.  
"Come, Mother Marguerite, there is still much to be done." The sister urged Margie along to another room, giving Bart a stern look so he won't follow. Margie waved to him as she left.  
Alone in the great hall of the cathedral, he folded his arms across his chest.  
What now?  
He then noticed the two angels and he gave them a long, hard look.  
Feh, as if they had any answers.  
Bart was almost transfixed with the image of the angels when a younger boy, about Margie's age, came from one of the rooms towards him. The boy was hesitant,  
"Umm… Are you Mister Bartholomew?"  
Bartholomew turned to the boy, raising his brow,  
"Drop the 'mister' and that's me. What do you want?"  
The boy scratched the floor with his foot.  
"Umm… Well… My name's Albert… And… I… kainda like Mother Margie…" He blushed a deep shade of crimson.  
Bart laughed,  
"Good for you, kid. Why are you telling me this? You're talking to the wrong Fatima, you know."  
Albert blushed even deeper, if possible,  
"…She likes… You, doesn't she?"  
"Hey, hey, kid!" He waved his hands and shook his head, "It's not like that! We're cousins. That's all."  
Albert pulled one shoulder up and he said,  
"I think she _likes_ you."  
Bart tried to laugh,  
"She doesn't. She just likes me in a 'big brother' kainda way, I'm sure!" At Albert's skeptic look he added, "Even if she did, we're _cousins_…! There could be never anything between us, and she knows it…! Go for it, kid." Albert gave him a surprised look. "She deserves someone to look after her properly, and I see in your eyes that you'll be good to her."  
The sister from before returned to the room, and startled the boy back to where he came from, not before he met Bart's eyes with gratitude all over. Bart sighed.  
They _were_ family, after all, him and her, the last of their family. He, the only one to continue the Fatima name. Sigurd, with all his respect to Edbart Fatima, had stayed a Harcourt. Margie can't like him in that way, its… Wrong. Besides, Bart considered her his little sister that he needed to protect and see that she was happy; he could never imagine her as anything else.  
"Master Bartholomew?" The sister crossed the distance to him, "May I have a moment of your time?"  
By her tone and the way she walked, he knew it wasn't going to be nice.  
"Master Bartholomew, I'm not sure you remember what I asked you last time you visited…"  
"That I won't." his tone was annoyed.  
She nodded,  
"Please. You are a bad influence on the Holy Mother. You teach her words and make her behave unseemly to the Holy Mother of Nissan."  
"Why don't you just go out and say it! You think I'm trash…!" Bart adjusted his backpack, deserting the argument with a defeated sigh before it'll start. He remembered that last time he spoke his mind to the clergy, Margie was very sad. Besides, he could see when he wasn't welcomed; they were practically booting him out.  
He turned and started to leave, "It's the squirt's birthday, for crying out loud… Tell her I wished her a happy one, eh?" he waved at the sister without turning.  
That was short.  
He was never loved by Margie's supervisors.  
Did Margie have any idea that she was lucky? He wished he had someplace to be, some destiny to fulfill. He was once 'The Crown Prince', but now he was nothing.  
Did she have a clue how lucky she was that she had guardians to look after her and drive 'bad influences' away?  
Those moments of tension when she tried to make him like her in another way were really scary for him. He didn't want to hurt her, but there was no way he could be what she wanted, let alone what she _needed_.  
He would visit her again in a while, after Albert would win her heart.  
Nearly each of his friends found a mate, a spouse, a kindred spirit. They found something. What was it? Could someone like Bartholomew ever dream to find something like that? What had happened to him that suddenly made him doubt his worth? The pre-Deus-Bart would never imagine thinking that he wasn't worth much

"…He just gave me the cake and left. Sister Molly told me that he left right afterwards. She also told me he wished me a happy birthday…" 

Citan had just returned when Sigurd closed the Televone. He sighed heavily.  
"Any luck with Ms. Marguerite?"  
"…"  
"I see. Where did he head after Nissan?"  
"…"  
"Was she that informative?"  
Sigurd turned his head towards his friend with a murderous glare.  
Citan loosened his collar and said,  
"Regarding the Young One's next destination," He came beside Sigurd's seat and tapped his chin, "I do not believe that he had visited Rico, considering the dubious nature of their relationship…"  
They both stared at the blank Televone screen, pondering what had been Bart's next destination.  
The door opened and a cleric came in.  
"Regent Sigurd, there is a visitor for you." It was the fifth time they bothered him since he requested not to bother him.  
"Not now." Sigurd didn't even look at the door's direction, deep in thought. Just before the cleric left, Citan asked with half a thought,  
"Who is it?"  
"Mister Black."  
"Jesiah?!" Sigurd snapped out of his brooding, very much alarmed and ready to start running away. His dark companion's eyes grew wide with concern at the name.  
"Nay, Regent; his son."  
Sigurd settled back to his seat. Citan exhaled with relief.  
"Let him in."

Billy entered, accompanied by Primera and Midori. She and Primera were good friends even though they hardly said a word.  
"Hello. I'm sorry to bother you, Siggy, but I just _had_ to take a break from the orphanage…" He noticed the grim looks on their faces, "What's wrong, Siggy?"  
Sigurd did not reply, and Citan understood that he had to tell their visitor the bad news,  
"It's Bart." He said, "He was attacked by an assassin."  
"Oh my god!" Billy exclaimed in total shock, "Is he okay??"  
The doctor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and repeated icily, "He may not last the night."  
"…Dear god…" The young gunman mumbled in shock, "And we were just starting to get along, too…"  
Sigurd's stare snapped to the man in blue,  
"He visited you?"  
Billy nodded,  
"He came to the orphanage after visiting Emeralda, he told me."  
"…He visited Emeralda…?" Sigurd was surprised. His brother and the Nanomachine colony never really connected, even after the later 'grew up' and caught Bart's eye.  
"He told me he went to visit her in Zeboim, but didn't find her."  
Citan grabbed Billy's arm and forced him to sit. He himself sat across from him.  
"Tell us about his visit, Billy. We are trying to understand what had happened to him. You were saying that you and he were starting to get along?"  
Billy looked concerned. His young, pale face serious and a wrinkle between his brows. Sigurd joined them.  
"Yes. You know how we always used to fight…? Over Siggy and practically over anything else?"  
Both ex-elements nodded their heads with an expression that implied that they weren't happy with those memories.  
Billy smiled sheepishly and started,  
"I was just saying my morning prayer when he came."

"Oh, god, which lies within our hearts, please grant these children mirth and happiness." Billy's eyes widened as he heard the children's cries of laughter and joy increase ten fold immediately after.  
He wasn't expecting such a quick answer. Actually, he was just saying that because that's what he always wished for. After several minutes of starring at the wall and blinking in confusion, he went outside to discover why the children were suddenly so joyous. With his crisis of faith, it really struck a nerve that his prayer would be answered at all. You can't play with a man's faith like that.  
His white brows lifted with the sight of a certain blond pirate among the children. They squeaked and jumped, wanting to know what he had brought them this time.  
Bart sat on one knee, laughing, and produced a toy from his backpack. His smile was gentle as he told the children,  
"I have only one of this," He looked at them as if telling a great secret, indicating the round object in his hand, "I found it in a far away city under the ground." The children listened eagerly, hanging upon every word of his tale. "This means that you'll have to share this. If you fight, it might get broken, okay?" They nodded solemnly, just wanting him to shut up and give it to them. Before he did, though, he noticed Billy coming from the house. "If you'll let Billy see it too, he might be able to make more, so everyone can have one!" He gave it to them and they started yelling and laughing again, running after it. They were mostly trying to understand what it did.  
"What did you give them? Nothing too dangerous, I hope."  
Bart placed his hands on his hips, watching them play along with the young gunman,  
"I found it in Zeboim when I went to visit Emeralda a few days ago. Couldn't find her anywhere. Anyway; you throw it," He pointed at the round disk-like object, raising and falling with a horde of children after it, "And it can fly really far. It's very cool. Its something with the design or something."  
Billy nodded his head with understanding, clearly impressed by the technology of the deceased civilization.  
"T…Thank you." Billy stuttered. The blond only shrugged, "Hey, what's the point in being a kid, if you don't have some weird grown up bringing you cool stuff, eh?"  
Billy nodded,  
"Why are you here?" He couldn't hide the suspicion in his voice.  
The pirate looked slightly somber as he replied,  
"For one thing, I just had to get that flaying thingie to the kids. For another thing," He hesitated and looked away, "I… Want your advice. As a clerk. Or as a friend. Or both. Or neither. Whatever suits you." He frowned, finding his own wording confusing. He could feel Billy's stare on the back of his neck. When he ventured a glance at the boy, Billy had a serious expression. After a moment, though, he nodded and invited Bart into the house. Bart smiled at this,  
"Cool."  
Once they were in the house Billy poured them both tea,  
"Don't you think that we're going to be friends or something." He pointedly said.  
Bart accepted the tea,  
"Don't you worry that little head of yours; I don't like you much either."  
"So why come to me? Did everybody else understand what an idiot you are and kick you out? Did Siggy decide to finally realize you were uselsess and desert you? Huh?"  
Bart only smiled,  
"Actually, yes."  
Billy stared at him in shock. He was trying to annoy him, not get to the point.  
Bart shrugged,  
"Well, more or less, anyway." He sighed and tried to get it right. Talking with a smile on his face as if it were nothing, "What happened is, I think I'm either growing up a little or getting suicidal tendencies, because I'm feeling pretty useless."  
Billy finally sat down across from Bart.  
The gunman thought about this a moment.  
"So what do you want _me_ to do? Find a use for you?" He really didn't know how to react.  
Bart shrugged again, slightly annoyed,  
"I donno, you're the priest, not me. What do people do when they feel useless?"  
A small child quietly entered the house and started tugging at Billy's cloak.  
"No one is useless." Billy stated, "God creates everything for a purpose."  
"So what's mine?" the pirate demanded.  
"I don't know that! Nobody knows that but god himself!"  
Bart got up, annoyed,  
"That's it? That's what you were thought?! That only god knows everything? What am I supposed to do, then?"  
Billy got up as well,  
"Don't be angry at me, you dolt! I'm trying to help!"  
"Well, you're doing a lousy job!"  
"Excuse me for _living_!"  
"I—" Before Bart could continue, the child that stood there quietly while they bickered was suddenly noticed. The fact that he started screaming Billy's name by now was a factor. Both men dropped the argument for the time being in favor of listening to the kid.  
"Biwy, Mistew Bawt, our Fwisby got caught in a twee. Awex's twying to get it outta the twee, but he can't cwimb that faw…"  
"The what did what where?" Bart tilted his head.  
"You moron," Billy explained, "He says that the Frisby got caught in a tree."  
"What's a Frisby?"  
Billy pursed his lips and then turned to the kid,  
"What's a Frisby?"  
The child pointed at Bart,  
"Toy that Mistew Bawt Bwought."  
"Oh!" Both men exclaimed.  
They reached the tree just to see Alex, who was trying to reach the Frisby, lose his grip on a branch and nearly fall. Luckily for him, he managed to grab it in time. However, he was now stuck, dangling from a branch almost ten feet above ground.  
It was a big tree, and to make it worse, if Alex were to let go of the branch, he couldn't just be caught before he hit the ground because there were many branches on his way down.  
The aforementioned 'Frisby' was at the very thin end of another branch, even higher than the dangling boy.  
"Crap!" was Bart's response to the situation.  
"Do something!" Was Billy's.  
Alex started screaming in panic by now.  
Both men stared helplessly at the boy. Even if they started to climb now, neither would ever be able to reach the child before he lost his grip.  
"Billy!!! Help!!!" Alex was crying. His benefactor was on the verge of tears as well.  
"I have an idea!" Bart yelled, running as close as he could under Alex, "Move the kids away!"  
Billy did not understand what Bart was planning, but complied and got the kids away from the tree.  
"Angel!" Bart shouted. A furious wind started, and amidst the sand and leaves it raised, it made one think that Bart had sprouted wings. Billy, as the rest of the kids, had to cover their faces and brace themselves as the wind howled about.  
Bart was levitated just enough to reach and grab Alex.  
There was one problem: something had happened to the wings mid flight, and the apparition dissolved.  
That means that the wind just stopped, the wings disappeared, and Bart was now ten feet above ground, with both hands holding Alex.  
He fell.  
He crashed into many branches on the way down, until, luckily, the ground stopped his fall.  
Billy and the children rushed to them.  
"Alex, are you okay??"  
Bart stirred and opened his arms. Alex got up, dazed, but otherwise unscratched.  
The pirate stayed on the ground, on his back, beneath the tree a little longer, letting the aches and pains subside. Twigs and branches stuck to him in painful looking ways.  
Billy stood by his head, looming menacingly over him. The gunman's expression was serious.  
"Heh, sorry." Bart chuckled, "It was my fault. I brought that thing."  
As a response, Billy took one of his guns out of his holster.  
"Ah?!" Bart panicked, "It worked, right?! B…Billy! C'mone!"  
Billy's expression didn't change when he pointed his gun up and fired.  
Bart cringed.  
The 'Frisby', as the kids called it, fell straight into the priest's ready hand.  
He left Bart on the ground and went to the children, returning the toy.  
The blond got up painfully. All his body hurt. He dusted himself off as he approached the priest. The children returned to their gleeful playing as if nothing happened.  
"Crap, Billy, you scared the ether out of me…"  
The gunman did not reply.  
Billy and Bart were looking thoughtfully at the children,  
"If you hadn't saved Alex, I would have shot you because you brought the thing here."  
Bart smiled at him,  
"I believe you."  
At this point another figure emerged from the house. She was small and had light curls.  
"Maria?!" Bart could not contain his surprise, "What's she…" Then he smirked most evilly, "Oh, I see…" He nudged Billy in the ribs, "You devil, you."  
The gunman's face grew increasingly red,  
"Bart! I'm going to kill you!" His fingers twitched beside his body, etching for his guns, "It's not like that, you moronic-"  
Here Maria was close enough to them to speak,  
"Hello Bartholomew." She smiled at him and then turned to Billy, "Sweety, why is your face so red? Do you feel okay? I heard so much noise… and a gun shot…"  
Bart grabbed his stomach with laughter while Billy seemed on the verge of exploding,  
"…Everything's okay, pumpkin." He gave Bart a fiery glare at his renewed laughter, "I was just trying to kill Bart."  
"Hey!" The pirate suddenly stopped laughing.  
"Oh, okay, sweety, I'll be inside, I gotta catch up on my reading." She returned to the house.  
Bart calmed down,  
"She had grown since I last saw her." He commented. Billy's eyes got some kind of dreamy look,  
"She is my light, my breath, my life." He then snapped out of his trance with a shake of his head. He gave Bart another glare, but discovered that the later's reaction to the muse was not scorn, as he had suspected, but tender thoughtfulness. The sadness in his eyes was unmistakable.  
"So you'll be leaving?" Billy asked.  
"Ya." Bart looked back at the children, "I think I worn my welcome, and I did what I came here to do. Besides, I know the kids here are in good hands, and I can't stand your face for too long."  
This was the gunman's turn to smile,  
"You still don't have your answer, though."  
There was a moment that the only sound was the laugh of the children. Then Bart said,  
"That's true… Sorry I snapped at ya…"  
Billy glanced at him,  
"I understand why you did. You must be going through a rough time …" He was silent a short moment, then said plainly,  
"You remember the story about the angels with the one wing?"  
"Of course, I was raised on it… What's your point?"  
Billy looked at the house,  
"There comes a time in every person's life where he wants to fly. For that we need both wings. Find the one to make you fly; Look for your wings."  
The pirate did not reply, just smiled, turned around and started leaving.  
"See ya, idiot!" He called as he left, a smirk on his face.  
"Not if I can help it!" Billy replied, smiling as well. However, the Frisby hit him in the back of the head at this point.

"…So I fired a shot in his general direction for bringing that cursed Frisby. It was nothing but trouble since. You have any ideas how many windows it broke?!" Billy finished his story.  
"…You call that getting along…?" Citan scratched his cheek.  
Sigurd, seriousness etched on his face, simply and without a word got up and left the room.  
"Something I said…?" Billy looked concerned. Citan smiled fondly at him,  
"No, Billy, something Bart said."

_"…Did everybody else understand what an idiot you are and kick you out? Did Siggy decide to finally realize you were useless and desert you?…"___

_"…I think I'm either growing up a little or getting suicidal tendencies, because I'm feeling pretty useless."_

"Oh, Bart…" Sigurd sighed, sitting by his brother's side and watching helplessly as he inhaled and exhaled. He reached out and pushed some strands of hair from his face.  
Bart's form was near pitiful; His braid was no more, his hair like an angel's halo around his head. His chest and most of his upper body was wrapped in blood stained bandages. His face was pale with creases of pain visible. He wore an expression no eighteen-years-old should wear; No young man should have such a broken expression.  
"…What have I done…?" the sigh escaped Sigurd's lips without thought.  
"You have done nothing wrong." Citan said as he entered the room. Sigurd turned to him, a dejected look on his usually serious face.  
"I know that when it comes to ruling, the Young Master… _Bart's_ decisions leave something to be desired, but… We could have found _something_ for him to do…"  
Citan sat on his knees by Sigurd, at Bart's bedside,  
"And even if you did, it would have been the same."  
"…?"  
The dark doctor looked thoughtfully at the unconscious pirate,  
"'Usefulness', as Billy told us he called it, or one's place in the world is not a thing anyone can give you. It is a thing one must discover on one's own."  
Sigurd was silent.  
"If he felt 'useless' or unwanted he would have felt that no matter how much work you would have thrown at him. He's just eighteen, he needs freedom, but he also needs a family."  
"I really should have beaten you." Sigurd said with half a smile, alarming his companion, "Why didn't you tell me all this sooner?"  
Citan smiled, but could not make his friend feel any better.  
"Look at him." Sigurd shook his head, smile fading, "He's thinner. His muscles look as if he had been training harder, but he's still too damn _thin_. I… I just feel… So helpless. This should _not_ have happened."  
Citan had no reply to this, but knew that sitting here would do no help.  
"Come, we must let him rest in quiet if we wish him the best recovery."  
They got up from the floor and returned to the conference room where Billy waited.  
"How is he?" He inquired, genuine worry in his eyes.  
Citan tried to have an air of optimism as he replied,  
"He is still in critical condition, but every moment that passes his chances are getting better."  
"You mean every moment he doesn't die is a moment he lives." Sigurd gloomily growled.  
Citan gave his friend a reproachful look at his cynicism, and did not honor the remark with a retort.  
The room went silent. Each of them thinking of what could have happened and how can they find out.  
It was almost midnight, and the castle was very quiet. The guards outside exchanged pleasantries as they exchanged shifts.  
"What do we do now? We do not know where he went or what he did after Billy. We have no way of knowing what had happened to him." Sigurd snapped, the silence playing on his already edgy nerves.  
"I believe I can help you with that." A new voice said.  
All heads turned to the entrance, all eyes widened at the figure standing there.  
She was a young woman around Bart's age. She had long, ebony hair that reached her mid back, her eyes were the color of the deepest part of the ocean- blue and bottomless, her skin was light amber and her lips full and crimson.

She was magnificent.

"I am Delilah." She said.

All three men stared at her with mouths and eyes wide open. Sigurd was the first to react,  
"You…!! You caused all this?!" He rose to his feet, and it seemed as if he would attack her every moment. Citan hurried to his friend's side, a serious, somewhat angry expression on his face,  
"Explain yourself this instant, young lady; what is the meaning of this?"  
The young woman named Delilah looked at the floor, her eyes endless pits of sorrow.  
"I will. You deserve an explanation. But first," She dared to raise her almond eyes and looked levelly at Citan, "Is… He alive? Is he okay? Can I see him?" her voice trembled.  
Sigurd tried to advance at her, but Citan held him back,  
"He's fighting for his life as we speak," He hissed, anger clear on his face, "He was mortally wounded, but I am certain you know that better that we…!"  
She lowered her eyes back to the ground with the news with an expression of astonishment mixed with terror.  
"I… It was me who caused all this, forgive me."  
Sigurd lunged at her halfway, for Citan grabbed him and prevented him going any further.  
"Let go of me, Hyuga, damn you!" He growled as Delilah retreated a step back in fear.  
"Sigurd, listen to reason! Let us hear what she has to say, first!"  
The ex-element relaxed his muscles and tore himself from Citan's grip. He headed to the table and sat down.  
"I am listening." He said and glared at the woman with obvious resent.  
Citan, Billy and Delilah sat at the table as well.  
She looked dejectedly at the palms of her hands in her lap,  


"Do you believe in angels?" She addressed no one in particular, "I didn't. Not until I met him."

Hey! Do you want to know what happened yo Bart? Do you think I should continue? Do you think I should stop writing for the sake of humanity? Please, let me know!!

I have a FF, Vagrant Story and Xenogears fan site: Http://kickme.to/TheAncientCapital

Please, let me know what you think! It'll mean the world to me...!

LunarBlade.


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